Daredevil: Penance
by DabbleDabble
Summary: Following events of series 1. Matt hunts the Hand, and battles against himself when he's faced with feelings for Elektra and Karen. Meanwhile, Karen investigates the Devil of Hell's kitchen and grows closer to Matt. Foggy and Matt's friendship begins to suffer. Our heroes stand divided as secrets are revealed, morality is corrupted, and there's HELL TO PAY...Read & Review please :)
1. Chapter 1

DAREVEIL: PENANCE

Following season One, mostly speculation and vigilantics. Warning, may contain spoilers.

 _Click_.  
Somebody's got a gun.

 _Splash._

And he's stepped in a puddle. I pause, tilting my head as I position myself in the direction of the noise. I listen to the whistling from the pipes and I approach it. It evolves into hissing which escalates into dripping. I've found the puddle.  
Something moves to my right. I duck and jab.  
 _Thwack_! My fist connects with a torso. The gun scrapes the wall as he falls back. I lunge for the armed hand and slam it into the wall.  
 _Clatter_.  
The gun's on the ground, now's my chance. Twisting his arm, I wrench.  
"The Hand. Where're they operating from?" I growl. I can smell the stench of his sweat, it mixes with tobacco. We have a smoker on our hands.  
"I don't know!" He blurts in that frantic tone I'm growing so used to. They always do that, vomit out the truth in sheer terror. It's almost starting to amuse me.  
"Please! I swear!"  
I shove my knee into his spine. I feel him writhe against me, pain is shooting from his spine to his brain and I savour every moment. Clutching him by the collar, I hoist him backward, with his head facing the concrete wall, he knows what's coming.  
"I have a family!" He cries.  
"Then give me answers!" I snarl now, having to keep my anger in check.  
"I don't know! I swear on my son!"  
"If you're lying to me, I will find you. And I will kill you. Slowly." I promise him as I loosen my hold on him. Just as I feel him start to relax, I slam his head into the wall.  
 _Crack_.  
Broken nose but that's about it.  
 _Thud.  
_ And a concussion.  
The familiar scent of warm iron tinges my nose. Blood.  
Using a booted foot, I flip him over on the ground so he doesn't suffocate in the puddle of blood pooling from his nose.  
Twenty minutes of scaling fire escapes go by, and I'm on the rooftop of my apartment block. Breathless from the dash back home, I lean forward against the balcony as I face the city below. I catch my breath.  
That was fruitless. It's frustrating. They're invisible and it's making me restless. The only difference now is, they know I'm after them. Knowing they're in my city makes me feel like I can see shadows again. A whisper here, a shape shifting in the darkness, a presence. I can sense them, watching me. Waiting. But for what?  
I will find them and I will rid the city of their evil, maybe then I might find some peace.

Another night wasted.

Heading toward the fire escape, I drop down and climb in through the window of my apartment. I know it's my place from the number of stairs, the splintered window sill and the smell of rum coming from the drapes.  
 _Home sweet home._  
Pulling off my mask, I grab the bottle of whiskey I left on the table this morning and down it. The flavour makes me gag then comes the slow burn. That's the thing with drinking, it's the only burn that loosens things up inside, soothing my shot nerves and whispering bittersweet nothings to my tortured mind.  
The drink is the warm embrace of a lover when I've come in from the cold. It's not practical, but sometimes, I need it. Lately, I've needed it a lot. Foggy doesn't really talk to me much, there's a tension there ever since he find out. And Karen's noticed, but she's too focussed on finding justice to bother to address it.  
I wonder what she doing tonight. I sit on the stool and lean against the counter top. I pull off my suit and slowly bend my left leg. It's been sore for a week now, but it's getting better. I got a new rule of thumb, _if the body is healed, the city isn't.  
_ So far it's been pretty accurate.  
I pause, something doesn't feel right. Someone is here. I lift my head and let the scent tug at the furthest corners of my mind, it unravels.  
 _Shit_.  
"Elektra." The name is shoved off the tip of my tongue by a combination of disbelief and alarm.  
"Hello, Matthew." I can _hear_ her smile. It's cruel, playful.  
"Stay away from me."  
"Aw, after all these years, you don't wanna hear me out?" The voice moves to the left of me then to the right, she's looking me over. Her style of observing hasn't changed much, not unlike a boxer. Left hook then a right swing. She moves fast as she sums me up. I know because I hear the swish of her jacket, detect the scent of lilies and gin.  
"Elektra, you need to go." I manage, it's like a lump of coal is lodged in my gullet and I can't breathe. The memories of how she feels, smells, speaks and even walks all come rushing back, accompanied with the damaging and reckless time we spent together. It was intimate, it was intense, it was fast and it was bad. She's the wrong kind of freak, and I need her to keep away from me.  
"Very well, Matthew. But I have a lead on the Hand."  
"What?" I mumble, but she's already heading for the door.  
"Your turn to beg." She quips in that cold, well-spoken way I hate that I've missed.  
"Elektra, wait—"  
The door swings shut and I'm on edge. She has a lead. I have so many questions. How? Where? More importantly, _why?_  
Elektra is more of a mercenary than a hero, she does as she pleases for who she pleases. What's she got against the Hand?

 _It must be personal_.  
I move over to the phone and push the voicemail button. It clicks with ease. And that's when I hear Karen's voice.  
"Matt, they've got Foggy. I need your help! 32nd and 4th, take the back alley."  
If anything happens to Karen or Foggy, I won't be able to live with myself. I'm already pulling my suit back on, it happens automatically. I can't go as Matthew. They need real help. And if anyone lays a finger on either of them, there'll be hell to pay.

Bursting through the open window, I leap off the fire escape and descend into the murky city.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Prowling through the back alleys, my senses are on fire as I listen for every cry, every scream, and every bang in hopes of finding Karen and Foggy. I'm meters from it, and somehow I'm frozen in time.  
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.  
I can hear Karen, she's trying to talk someone down.  
"Wait… you don't have to do this." She's promising them, I speed up. As I round the corner, I bump into someone. From the cologne, I know its Foggy, only there's blood in the air too.  
"Look who decided to show up."  
"What's going on?" I ask, worried Karen might be hurt. "Are you okay?"  
"Bloodied lip but I'll survive. Karen saved the day, I need to call the brigade. It's bad. It's really bad, and he's our only lead to the guys pedalling guns through the city." Foggy explains. I realise they're doing this for a case they've been working on, but wasn't the lead a teenager?  
"I'm glad you're okay." I say to him, and he ignores it. I turn my attention to Karen and the jumper.  
"Please! We can protect you if you'll just come down from there. I promise, nobody will hurt you, or scare you again…!" She calls. I follow her voice as it resonates upwards, rebounding off the metal fire escape and the brick walls. I hurry passed her and I feel her freeze. I don't have time to make small talk, besides, I'm Daredevil right now.  
Scaling the fire escape, I weave in and out of the levels, the muscles in my legs ache as they pump me forwards. I need to stop the jumper and help Karen. The gun crime in the city has gone through the roof since the Hand showed up. Local gangs want to defend themselves and their businesses. Not that they pose much of a threat…  
I feel it before she sees it. "No!" I bellow as I race toward the rooftop. A sickening second of pure silence and _crash._ There it is.  
I'm too late and my conscience brings up nothing, I draw a freaking blank. I hear a soft thud, Karen fell to her knees. I don't know from the sound, but I do know Karen.  
Her sobs echo and I feel fucking powerless. Where did I go wrong? If only I had a few more seconds. I listen to her anguish from the safe spot on the rooftop. By safe, I don't mean for her. I mean it's safer for me. I don't know if I can stand to be around her when she's devastated and do nothing…and now this…is this on me?  
Something in my chest tightens, if I hadn't spent those seconds trying to appease Foggy…this wouldn't have happened. Clenching my jaw, I kick at the wall with my thick boots. Rock chips away, and the pain is nothing compared to the weight of knowing an innocent kid just leaped to his death and I was stood meters away.  
It's not good enough.  
The next morning is merciless. I'm hungover and limping from kicking that damn wall. I enter the office, with my sunglasses and walking stick, cradling a pile of files close to my chest.  
I hear Karen sniffle, then the gentle swoosh of tissue paper being pulled from its box. It's such a peaceful sound, I wonder if anyone else has ever noticed that.  
"Morning." I mumble.  
"Hey." Karen manages. There's a silence where Foggy would greet me, and the message is loud and clear. I scoff and shake my head.  
"Matt, what happened?" Karen's voice interrupts my bitter wallowing.  
"He should be the least of your worries, Karen. You should go home and take care of you." Foggy advises, making it a point to stand between me and Karen.  
"What happened?" I ask, pretending not to know.  
"Unbelievable." I catch Foggy's inaudible mutter, I'm lucky Karen is stood a few feet away. Foggy sees right through me but I don't give a damn. As far as I'm concerned this is on him. If I didn't spend time trying to make amends with him last night, it would never have happened. I would have made it on time, I would have pulled him away from the edge. I would have made a fucking difference. But I didn't, and in the cold light of day, that beats me down harder than anything I've ever felt before.  
"Our lead, 17 year old Aaron Talbot, committed suicide last night. Daredevil was too late, and I couldn't do anything to stop it either." She stifles a sob and I've already reached out and pulled her into an embrace, she buries her face into my shoulder.  
"I'm sorry." I manage, my voice catching in my throat. I'm afraid she might detect my guilt, or hear my heart pounding.  
"You saved my life, Karen. She took out two thugs who had tied me up. If the devil had been punctual, he would've been proud of her." Another dig from Foggy. But I ignore it, it's hard to think about anything when I'm holding Karen. And I like it but I somehow, hate that I like it. I quickly pull away.  
"I've got a meeting. I should go, Karen, please go home."  
"I'd rather be working, Foggy." She says, her voice thick with grief.  
"If she wants to work let her work."  
"I wasn't talking to you." Foggy snaps, his footsteps move away from me and the door slams shut. I know he's gone but, "is he gone?"  
"Yeah, what happened between you two?"  
I shrug as I sit down.  
"We're two very different people. Foggy works in black and white."  
"So do you."  
She's so wrong but I don't have the heart to tell her. I wonder what she'd think of my grey morals when it comes to crime fighting.  
"I do whatever it takes. Sometimes that isn't enough." I pause, have I said too much?  
"I know the feeling." She says, she sniffles again.  
"If Foggy's right and you should be at home, please go."  
"I'd rather be here with you—a-around you, I mean." She explains, her voice shakes. I believe her. I believe she needs company to drown out the sound of his body hitting the ground. I know I do. It's all I can hear. It replays like a vivid nightmare over and over again.  
"Meanwhile, there was a shootout at a bar and the owner got his hands on a gun… Wanna come with me to check it out?" She asks. I would go everywhere she asks me, simply because it's her asking.  
"Whatever helps you feel better. Hey, maybe after do you wanna… go clear your head with me?"  
There's silence and it makes me nervous. Is she gonna say no? She probably knows I'm no good for her. I can't really hide how damaged I am as a person around her, she sees it and somehow forgives it.  
"What'd you have in mind?"  
"I-I didn't think that far ahead."  
"Wanna play some pool?" She suggests, "grab a drink. Or two."  
"Probably two." I answer, mustering a small smile. We stand in silence then she squeezes my arm and walks passed me. I catch a whiff of her perfume which is cloaked by a different perfume, one she wears when she's out in the evenings. From the shift in scent and the shuffling, I know she's put on her coat. I guess it's time to get to work.  
The bar is small, a few cops mill around but I haven't really picked up on anything strange just yet. I wonder what Karen's seeing. I paint the picture for myself, club music turned down low, an empty club. A creaking bar stool, someone large, probably around 200 pounds to get the stool to creak like that, is sat answering questions. The cop stands, I can make out the faintest scratching, like a talon lightly scraping a cave wall only it's the nib of a pen against paper.  
His staff aren't in. That's weird. I wonder why.  
"Owner's being questioned by the cops." Karen says, thinking she's being helpful. I don't have the heart to tell her I sense a lot more than she can and as a result, I end up seeing a lot more than she's privy to.  
"He's gonna need a lawyer." She says, responding to whatever he's saying to the cop. I miss it because from the way the sound waves resonate around the bar, I catch the vaguest glimpse of Karen. It's not an image, like a normal image, its outlines, flecks of detail and it's fleeting. Sensual.  
"Huh?"  
"Are you okay?" Her concern is transparent. "You never said what happened to your leg?"  
"It's not my leg, it's my foot. Fracture. I fell over."  
I wait for that moment where she decides if she believes me or not to pass, then she says, "If you keep being so clumsy, Matt, you're gonna leave me no choice but to move in with you."  
I smile, "is it wrong that that doesn't sound so bad to me?" I let slide out as I smile. Gladly, I'd gladly have her around more. As quickly as it slides out, I whip my thoughts back into shape. What the hell am I doing? Karen is off limits. And the whole double-identity thing won't be a fun conversation to have. Karen has trust issues and I don't want her to feel betrayed by me. Or disappointed.  
And it catches me off guard.  
From the silence, I can only guess I've offended her or she's shrugged off the comment as a quip. I hope it's the latter.  
"The cop's finished, we're up." She says. I accompany her. Now we're standing opposite the man, I know he's 250 pounds and solid. He smells of tobacco and… I pause. Gun powder.  
"You say you found this gun after the shoot out?"  
"Yep." His voice makes him sound like a bear.  
"And there's no security footage of the shoot out?" I ask, trying not to seem so distrustful.  
"Nah, there's no footage of the last 24 hours." The more he speaks, I notice the rhythm he speaks in. He's probably an excellent rapper, I note.  
"What happened here?" Karen chimes in. The stool creaks, he's tensing his muscles for her. He likes what he sees. From what I've noticed while accompanying her, most men do. It doesn't really bother me because Karen seems unaware of it…but I know she's not that naïve. She doesn't let it get in the way of her job.  
"Some teen walks in, starts mouthing off at one of the regulars. Older guy, crew cut and diablo tattoo on his neck. The teen pulls out a gun, starts blasting off bullets. Older guy's shot and flees, teen runs too. And I'm left standing in my bar dealing with the insurance company and loss of business."  
Karen asks him a few more questions, during which I stroll around the bar running my fingers along various surfaces to get an understanding of what sort of crowd comes here. Definitely not teenagers, the paint is peeling, the juke box rusting, this place is old.  
The bartender is upto no good, that's all I know. I need to work out what he's after and who gave him that gun. Guess I'll pay him a visit later tonight. When Karen finishes questioning the guy, she calls me.  
"Ready to go?"  
"Yeah."  
Her phone vibrates.  
"Oh, one second." I hear her mutter, she clicks a few buttons then pauses. I wonder who it is.  
"It's Foggy… Something's come up, uh…" She pauses. The way she does when I ask her if she's okay and she isn't, "I'll meet you at O'Malley's tonight…Seven?"  
"Sure."  
"Great. See you then." She says before walking away, it's clear she's troubled.  
"She sure is something." The bear says. I grin for him, so he knows I agree. Though I'm smiling, it doesn't quite reach my heart. I pull out my cell and call the one person I don't wanna talk to.  
"Foggy, what's going on with Karen?"  
"None of your business man, you take care of you. And leave us be."  
I pull the phone away from my ear, suckerpunched. I don't get when he started to hate me so much. I don't know if it's because of Karen, but he's never been so petty before. I don't know if it's because he's tired of coming second to me doing the vigilante thing…  
What scares me is however badly he thinks of me, there's a chance he's completely right about me. He's the only person who's known me this long and it bothers me. It bothers me he's justified to hate me. It makes me wonder if I should hate me too.  
Hell, I'm half way there.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

O'Malley's is quiet tonight, and I'm leaning against the bar. I pick up something sweeter, something enticing, it lurks just beyond the stench of beer and nachos. It's Karen's perfume. I tilt my head slightly but don't move.  
A pair of warm hands slide over my shoulders from behind, she gives them a friendly squeeze. I flinch, but force a smile. She has no idea my left shoulder is healing from the thrashing I gave the bartender with the suspicious gun. The creak of the barstool to my right indicates she's sitting next to me.  
"Sorry I'm late. Something—"  
"Something came up." I finish for her. There's a pause, but it isn't uncomfortable, she has her secrets and I have mine. I'm surprised as her hand finds my jaw.  
"Is that a bruise?"  
I snap back from her, flustered that I was leaning into her touch. There's another pause. This one's awkward. _Great_.  
"I-I tripped over. Caught my jaw on the kitchen counter." A sheepish smile is on my lips, by trip I mean I was kicked in the face and by kitchen counter, I mean by a freakin' ninja. The Hand have sent their men for me twice over three months. Their goal is to send a message. And each time, they somehow land more of a beating but never manage to unnerve me. I'm winning. The thought of Elektra slips into my mind, and as quickly as it appears, I push it aside. What am I doing? Karen is right here.  
"Drinks?"  
"And games." I suggest.  
"Awesome." She says, not bothering to hide her excitement. It's the way she lets her guard down for fleeting moments around me that I love the most. It's almost as though her secrets disappear when she's with me, and I like that version of Karen. The happy Karen in a safe world, with no demons. It's moments like these I catch myself, I really do care about her.  
I can hear her scraping the chalk against the billiard stick.  
"Ladies first." She taunts at me as I wave a hand to the bartender. I know he's seen me from the way his footsteps approach.  
"Two more." I say. His footsteps recede. I turn my body so I'm facing Karen and I wait for beat. She presses the cue stick into my hand and says, "Come on, I'll show you how."  
I give her a wry smile.  
"You should know…" I say slowly as I line up the billiard stick. She's guiding my hands and is pressed up behind me, I can feel her pulse, smell her soft, freshly shampooed hair as it dangles over my forearm making my heart pound.  
"I was billiard champion in college." I whisper into her ear as I jab the stick. The smooth whir of balls sliding across velvet followed by several dull thuds makes me smirk. Nailed it.  
Karen lets out a laugh in disbelief.  
"Surprised?" I probe, hoping for something.  
"Concerned." She shoots back, her guard is up but its playful.  
"Aw, so you worry about me." I grin at her, giving her my most charming smile.  
"Not bad for a blind guy." She says, then takes the cue stick while I gather the balls and set up the table using calculations and textures to identify the dimples on the fabric.  
"My charm?" I ask.  
"Your billiard skills!" She exclaims. I did it. I flustered her, and I like it.  
"Want me to show you how I do it?"  
There's a pause.  
"Do your worst." She quips, and I approach her. Music plays softly, glasses and bottles clink now and then as gentle chatter becomes an inaudible slew of sound. And all I can feel is her warmth and all I can taste is her perfume. My hands cover hers.  
"Softly…" I whisper, concentrating. She grows tense in my hands. I slowly draw back her arm, and we push the cue forward. The same sound of billiards rolling across fabric, followed by a few thuds. It's when I count the number of balls I potted, that I realise I missed and it's because I was stood so close to her. She turns on her heel, "Sabotage!" She starts to accuse me but for some reason, she trails off. We're still standing as close as we were when I was showing her how to play.  
There's so much tension between us, and yet, neither of us moves. Her hand finds my cheek again, and it feels so cool. Either she's cold or I'm the one burning up for once and I think it's the latter.  
"Billiards…" A well-spoken accent interjects. "You're getting rusty Matthew." Karen whips her hand away and I freeze. The voice makes every cell in my body stand up and pay attention.  
 _Elektra.  
_ "So this…" I hear her say as she approaches us, "is why I was thrown out so unceremoniously the other night?" I squirm. I can hear that smile again, her voice goes slightly higher when she smiles.  
"Not bad…I mean, I'd do the same. You're very pretty." She's talking to Karen now.  
"And you are?"  
"And I am too." Elektra retorts with that smugness I resent so much.  
"Matthew and I go back, way back. To some pretty hot and heavy—."  
 _Oh dear God…_  
I do the only thing I can to stop her from talking. "—This is Elektra. We were close in college."  
"We dated in college, amongst other things."  
If I could glare at her, I would. By other things, she means we were trained by Stick but she chose to become a mercenary. I chose Hell's kitchen.  
"Why so coy, Matthew?" Now I feel Elektra's hand on my cheek, and I step back, pulling away.  
"Tomorrow at ten, on the corner of seventh and ninth, look alive." She says then her sure footsteps stalk away from us.  
Karen's voice is low, "what the hell was that?"  
"That… was my ex."  
There's a pause, this one is the most awkward one we've had.  
Then she just says, "wow."  
"Yeah…" I cringe.  
"There's one way to kill the mood." She says with a nervous laugh, and I realise something in Karen has changed. Within moments, her guard is back up.  
"It doesn't have to." I'm suggesting but Karen is already putting distance between us. There's the creak of the barstool again, I hear a glass scuff the bar top followed by a gulp, followed by a second scuff. She's downed both of our drinks.  
"So…" She's saying, "I should go."  
And it's the last thing I wanna hear, especially over Elektra.  
"No, Karen. Please." I ask gently, she got my heart in her hands and she knows it. All those bittersweet nothings over the past few months, all the flirting, banter and accidentally brushing past each other, has led to this… her leaving me in a bar. Because of Elektra.  
"You're sweet." She says and I'm shaking my head, I can't think of the words but I don't want her to go.  
"I'll see you tomorrow." She concludes, and there it is. The nail in our proverbial coffin.  
 _God damn it, Elektra…  
_ As Karen Page leaves me standing in her wake, I slump onto the barstool and bury my head in my hands.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Landing the final punch on the ninja to my right, I wait for the reassuring thud of his body hitting the ground. _Thud_.  
"Gatecrashing my party." Elektra quips and I can smell her, dripping with sweat and gunpowder from the throw down she just rolled out on all eight of her assailants.  
"You gatecrashed my date, thought I'd gatecrash yours."  
"So it _was_ a date." She mutters as I hear metal scrape momentarily against the marble floor. She's gathering her blades. There's something in about the way her words come out—there's a falter, an extra pause. She's wounded.  
"Are you okay?"  
"I'm not too cut up about it." She quips, "but… between you and me, she seems a bit… tame for your tastes."  
"We're not talking about Karen." She walks past me, and I grip her arm with force, it stops her in her steps. I was always stronger, even if she was faster. She doesn't fight it, she lets me keep hold of her, suspended mid-step.  
"You're cut."  
"So are you, Matt." Her toned hand grazes my jaw and I realise my jaw is stinging. The adrenaline is wearing off.  
"Let's get out of here."  
"Hold on." She says as I approach the window. I wait, and that's when I hear it. It happens too fast for me to stop her. _Crack_.  
"Elektra?" I demand.  
"What? He killed a friend of mine. Now we're even."  
I crouch beside the body, my fingertips find his twisted neck. Jesus.  
"Don't bring that to my city."  
"Your city? Look around, Matt. Vigilantes are a dime a dozen these days. Besides, knocking them out isn't enough sometimes."  
"Killing them isn't the answer."  
"You just haven't been hurt."  
"I have."  
"No, Matt. Not in the right way. Because if you had, you'd be leaving a trail of dead bad guys in your wake too."  
I don't pry because her voice thickened and her words slowed down. She's struggling to speak, it's usually what happens when someone wells up. She's trying not to cry, and weirdly, in all the time I knew her, she never cried. All I know is, whoever has hurt her is going to pay in a big way.  
"Come on, let's get you clean up." I suggest.  
"Thought you'd never ask."  
***

I can hear her in the bedroom, she's borrowing some clothes – walking through the streets in your vigilante get up isn't practical during the day and it's almost eight in the morning. She emerges smelling of my aftershave and shampoo.  
Elektra told me they killed her family but didn't stop there. They trained her, made her lethal then tried to set her up, and in the process, they murdered the love of her life. She followed her leads all the way back to Hell's kitchen. I have to help her. I can't imagine losing Karen, or Foggy. Even if he hates me right now. It would be the end of me.  
"Morning." She stifles a yawn as she struts into the room. Despite opening up to me, her confidence is still as strong as ever.  
"Breakfast?" I ask. From the scent of detergent I can guess she's wearing the same t shirt Karen wore when I first brought her home. I crack a bemused smile. Must be a stylish t shirt. Shame I can't see it.  
"I should go."  
That's when my front door knocks and I freeze. Because the smell of fresh coffee with a dash of milk and sprinkle of cinnamon means one thing at the office.  
"Karen…" I whisper. I know exactly how this looks and I don't want it to look like that.  
Elektra is already at the door.  
"Hey—oh. I'm so sorry." Karen's bright greeting switches to dismay then apologetic in two seconds flat.  
"Oh, coffee. Sweet." Elektra says, I hear someone take a sip.  
"You can keep it." I hear Karen say.  
"Aw, she's kind. You should keep this one, Matthew!" She says before leaving me and Karen alone.  
"Nice t shirt." Karen mutters, the way her heels whisper against the carpet tell me she's turning to watch Elektra go.  
"She needed a place to stay."  
"And clothes." Karen adds.  
There's silence.  
"Hey, can I take you out tonight…f-for food. O-or stuff?" I've asked before I can stop myself. I keep coming so close to losing her lately, over misunderstandings and Elektra.  
"Wouldn't she mind?"  
"She's here because she needs my help with some things."  
"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Matt. Do whatever you want."  
"I wanna do dinner, with you." I try, it's like prying water from stone. She's keeping her guard up.  
"You mean like a work-dinner?"  
"I mean like a… date." I manage, my voice catches in my throat. "But it can be right after work." I add quickly, trying to make it less awkward than it is.  
"Sure, dinner or stuff, sound great."  
I smile, relieved and hopeful.  
"Why did you come over this morning?" I ask.  
"I've come across something… some guy is butchering gangs throughout the city. It can't be the devil of Hell's kitchen."  
"Vigilantism gone too far?"  
"Beyond too far. We're talking militarised."  
"Daredevil hasn't killed anyone so far. But this guy…"  
Her statement bothers me. I was stood right there when Elektra snapped that guy's neck. I recall Elektra's words, her beliefs. Her justification in choosing murder when it's necessary. I don't know where I stand, but I know I wanna stand for good. However fucked up I am.  
"I was hoping you'd do me a favour…" She trails off and I nod.  
"Anything. Just say the word."  
"Foggy."  
 _Fuck._

I haven't even walked into the café and I hear his chair swing out. He's leaving.  
"What, we can't even have a coffee together now?" I ask, exasperated.  
"Foggy, please. You said you'd do me a favour." Karen objects.  
"That why you showed up too? Doing Karen a favour? Well played, Page. Kudos for being an evil genius, but I'm sorry. Me and Matt are just…" he trails off, before walking away.  
"Headed in different directions apparently." I scoff, and even though I sound incredulous, the hurt settling into my heart makes me wince.  
He walks back toward us. He heard my remark.  
"Foggy, we can't carry on like this." I say, and as I speak, I'm completely aware of Karen being present. "You know?"  
"You know the city's favourite vigilante was filmed breaking into a warehouse where a dead crook was found earlier this morning, along with seven of his blooded buddies?"  
He thinks I killed him.  
"What? Foggy, no. He wouldn't do that."  
"He hasn't murdered any one so far, Foggy. Why start now?" Karen asks, being the voice of reason.  
"What has gotten into you guys? Just cut it out, _now_." She orders and I don't argue. I can't argue with Karen. Slumping in my chair, I run my hands over my head. That's when I hear the other chair slide out, Foggy settles into it but taps his boot against the ground. He does that when he doesn't wanna be somewhere.  
Right now, he doesn't wanna be anywhere near me. And that hurts. Nobody sees your highs and lows like your best friend. It's always the people closest to you who see the worst in you.  
"Seriously you guys, what's going on?"  
"I thought you wanted to discuss this militarised vigilante who's wiping out gangs?" I ask. She pauses.  
"It worked on you too, huh?" Foggy sighs, resigned. "You know, Karen, don't think I haven't noticed how much of a good liar you've become."  
"I shouldn't have to lie to get you guys to meet up. Besides, it's partly true. There's a story here, something bigger is going on. And what little good we do is important, but the only thing more important than that is to support each other."  
I look away. I'm transported back to the time I broke down in the office and told her I couldn't do this alone. She held me and promised me I wasn't alone. But she doesn't get it, she doesn't get how frustrating it is to constantly explain myself to Foggy. He holds me up to such a high standard and I'm no saint.  
"Look, you guys… I wanna say something." She starts then there's a pause. I feel Foggy shift in his seat, he's sitting up. All ears.  
"When I first met you guys, you took me in. And made me part of whatever our trio is, and I don't have a lot of friends out here. It would mean a lot if we could put our issues aside and just…I don't know, grab dinner tonight or something."  
I pause.  
"If not tonight, then tomorrow. I want us to do that. I need that for me." And there it is again, I thought it had vanished. That veil covering up something hidden just beyond her words. Something I can never quite pinpoint.  
There are no quick quips from Foggy, instead I feel him reach across the table and squeeze her arm.  
"We're always here for you, Karen. Whatever happens between me and Matt will never change that. We've got your back."  
"I want you guys back to how things were. And no one is telling me what's going on."  
"I'll leave that to Matt." Foggy says then his chair groans. He's getting up.  
"Will you come tonight, Foggy?"  
"I don't know, Karen."  
I clench my jaw. That's a no.

"C'mon Foggy…"  
"You and Matt go ahead."  
"Has it got something to do with his ex?"  
Shit. Foggy hated Elektra.  
"What? Elektra's in town? You didn't tell me?"  
"It's hard to tell you something when you won't even talk to me."  
"Dude…" Foggy's voice is firm, it's a warning and I bite my tongue.  
"Remember last time, Matt? Keep your distance from her. She's trouble."  
Shaking my head, I finally let my frustration slip out, "I don't need to hear this. You guys have a great night."  
With that I'm walking away.  
"Matt…?" Karen's voice stands out to me, even though I can hear every single sound within a hundred meters, her damn voice still stands out.  
"Let him go, Karen. He's half the man you think he is." I catch Foggy advising her as I go, and you know what? He's probably freakin' right.

Elektra and I dismantled three hideouts of the Hand tonight. We're getting closer to catching them and it's exhilarating. I pull off my shirt and she wolf whistles. We're both high off the adrenaline still. I missed feeling this kick with a partner in crime. In college, we'd do patrols together and fool around, it was the crazy. And I loved every second of it.  
"You've been hitting the gym. I appreciate that in a man."  
I laugh as I open the tap and run my bruised hand under the cold water. Closing my eyes, I let the soothing cold calm my fiery nerves and pounding muscles.  
Warm hands trace my bruised back, I straighten. The warmth from her body caresses mine as she steps even closer. She's examining the countless scars on my torso.  
"You've been a busy boy." She says in her half-mocking tone.  
"You okay? You seemed off tonight." She concludes. I give her a half-smile.  
"I'm fine."  
"Did you have a domestic with your best buddy?"  
Elektra and Foggy clashed on everything in college except for their love of whiskey. The only time they could stand to be around each other was if they were drunk. Speaking of drinks, I need one.  
"Ooh, was it Karen?" She probes.  
"What's your infatuation with her?" I ask, irked she brought Karen up. I didn't wanna think about Karen. It seems somehow disloyal to be stood here so close to Elektra then to think of Karen. It feels wrong. Or maybe, I just don't like the reminder that tonight we could have been having dinner together.  
"I'm curious about what makes _you_ so curious about her, Matthew. That's all."  
"She's not as tame as you think. There's more to her. She's strong too. Not ninja strong, but a strong person."  
"Boring." Elektra sighs. "Give me something scandalous." She toys, trying to bait me to see if I'll back out but something within me flickers, something I've kept supressed for a while.  
"I'm on fire when I'm near her. My world is a little brighter with her in it. And I love that."  
"Poignant."  
"Why haven't you tapped that yet?" She asks as she strides in the direction of the couch. I hear her slump onto it. Gentle whispering of the blanket against leather tells me she's pulling the blanket around herself.  
I walk over to the couch and sit beside her.  
"Because I'm lying to her already and its killing me." I stop and just enjoy brushing shoulders with someone after so long. Her warmth is contagious. I feel her soft hair pour over my chest as she rests her head against my shoulder. With Elektra everything was always so transparent, effortless. We were reckless, because we knew the other wouldn't break.  
Almost automatically, I find myself leaning in. How do I explain to either of these amazing women that when one looks at me, I feel like I can breathe and when the other looks at me, it feels like I can't.  
"It's good to have you back." I tell her. She shifts, straightening in her seat. I sit up too. She turns so she's facing me and I feel her hands on my face. Cupping my jaw, she pulls me closer. And the realisation of how much I've missed this is a blow to the brains and my thoughts screech to a halt.  
"I missed this." She whispers gently, it's like she read my mind and repeated my most vulnerable thought right back to me. Her nose presses against mine. She has _no_ idea how alone I've felt since we parted ways.  
 _Don't do it, Matt_. I tell myself, recalling Foggy's warning in the café earlier. But she feels so good, like a shot of dark rum, intoxicating, smooth…heavenly. Her finger tips stroke my cheeks.  
"For old times' sake?" She proposes in a whisper, her warm breath landing on my lips.  
My resolve caving, I push my lips against hers and take her into my arms. She clutches at my hair and holds me close, there's no tenderness in our kisses. Just hunger, passion and desire. She pushes me backward against the couch and straddles me, leaning forward she showers me with kisses, her long hair caresses my face and chest as it hangs down.  
Running a hand through her hair, I kiss her firmly, then pull away.  
"This is a bad idea." I whisper, hating myself as I speak. She climbs off me and scoffs at me.  
"I forgot how annoying your conscience is." She grumbles and walks over to the kitchen area. I listen to what she's doing. A cupboard opens and shuts. A lid is unscrewed, then gulping.  
"Can I atleast offer you a drink?"  
"A drink sounds great." I declare as I hang my head and run my hands through my short hair.  
"She's really done a number on you, Matthew." Elektra remarks after a moment. I don't speak. I can't think about Karen right now. The curtains flutter and I pause. The wind is still today, not even a breeze.  
"Elektra…" the dread in my voice resounds through the apartment. Suddenly, I hear several swift footsteps zipping around the apartment. Elektra grunts, the bottle smashes. A blow is delivered. I swing at the approaching footsteps, connecting with a ninja. I hear the _swoosh_ of a blade being unsheathed.  
"Duck!" Elektra barks. I do. The blade stings my ear, grazing it. I kick out, a clean sweep that knocks the assailant of his feet. He hits the ground hard and I use his scarf to strangle him only to stop when his struggles subside. I leap to my feet and battle the other ninjas.  
I hear Elektra yelp in pain. Blocking their attacks, I hurry to her aid, when I feel a slice across my chest. Suddenly, it's as though all the fiery rage I carry in my breast pours out down my chest. Lightheaded, I collapse. Gradually, the footsteps, the swords, the thuds and grunts disappear. Everything fades out.

Author's note: Hey guys, read & review. I'd love to hear your thoughts! 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Like the wound is a fuse and sitting up just lit it. Pain seers through every cell in my torso. As a groan escapes from my lips, my hand flies up to my chest and finds bandages.  
"Elektra…" I croak. I'm on my couch, I know that because of the luminosity pouring in through the window. It casts a lukewarm heat over my body, one that's grown to feel like home.  
"Elektra…?" There's no answer. I try to stand and my body buckles, like its alien to my orders. It scares me, I'm not used to having no control over myself. Gripping the couch, I fall to the ground.  
"Argh!" I cry out, the pain blocks out everything else. And as always, after pain comes panic as I start to run through what I remember.  
"Elektra?" I say, louder now as I pull myself up to my feet. "Are you ok?"  
No answer. Has she gone? Could she be done with Hell's Kitchen? I have to assume she's okay, how else would I wake up here?  
Pulling myself to my feet, I decide it's time to get to my day job.  
-

Using my stick to shove open the door, I stalk into the office. The first thing I detect is cinnamon and coffee, beneath it is a gentle smell, more like a rose-scented musk. It's Karen.  
"Rough night?" She asks.  
"You could say that." I mumble, my voice is hoarse, I think I took a blow to my collar bone and the bruising has spread to my throat tissue. Jesus, I'm in pain.  
"Where's Foggy?"  
"Now you care. You didn't show up last night." She says, pointedly.  
"Karen, Foggy wasn't gonna show up—"  
"But he did. Matt. He made the effort to, which is more than I can say for you."  
I scoff, my mouth hangs open for a moment.  
"You know what, Karen. Fine. Side with him. I'm so tired of explaining myself to you guys." And I'm headed for the door.  
"Woah, where the hell did that come from?" She follows me, angry and kinda concerned.  
I just shake my head.  
"You know what, Matt. I don't know what weird stuff you do outside of work, but it would be awesome to just once, _once_ , be made to feel like you actually give a damn about me and Foggy."  
This stops me dead. I turn and face her, I can hear her heart hammering in her chest.  
"I never ask you for an explanation. We all have secrets, and they're better left in the dark." She says now, her voice is thick with sorrow. "I just… I kind of need you guys right now and neither of you are around." Her voice catches in her throat, she's almost embarrassed by her own vulnerability.  
" Ever."  
All I can think is Karen needs me and I've been AWOL.  
"What's going on?" And now it's my heart's turn to hammer. I go through everything she's been saying to me this past week, the times she blew me off, the times she mentioned this new vigilante.  
"Are you okay?" I ask, the questions shoot out like bullets, one after the other. I don't even realise I'm not giving her a chance to answer until my words land on silence. I reach out and gently squeeze her shoulders.  
"What can I do?"  
I ask, pretending not to notice her burning up when I touch her. She takes in a shaky breath and all I'm met with is silence. There's something she's been carrying alone, and I wish I could tell her she doesn't have to. But I know what secrets are like, I know what battling demons is like. I slowly pull my hands away, unsure if they lingered a moment longer than they ought to.  
"I'm sorry I haven't been there for you. Look, after work, say the time and place and I'll be there. I promise you." I say, half-concerned I might not make it if some vigilantism kicks off.  
I guess the city can miss me, for one night. Even as I think it, I shake the thought off. I can't stop, not even for one night. The city needs me.  
"You promise?" She pipes up, and I nod. Not even thinking of the consequences of letting her down.  
I won't let her down. Not tonight.  
"I promise you can count on me."  
-

The night comes and I make my way through the city. Rain slicks down over me even though it's a mild night. Karen left to follow some leads, and I didn't push to go with her. I've been working all day. There's been a huge increase in gang related crime and links to another vigilante in town, the militarised guy Karen mentioned a few days ago. They're calling him the Punisher. He's tracking down criminals and killing them, brutally.  
As I arrive at the docks, I sense her stood meters away but instead I wait for her to notice me.  
"Matt, hey…" She says softly, she's shuddering.  
"Hey." I whisper, it's barely audible. Tonight, I catch glimpses of her outlines, her eyes, her cheeks, I paint a picture in my head with raindrops doing all the work for me.  
"Hold still." I utter, captivated as I raise a hand and stroke her bare arm, wiping the raindrops away as my hand moves up along her shoulder, then to her neck and finally at her cheek. Her body gives off heat as she shudders, but as my fingertips caress her she tilts her head at me but doesn't move.  
"I-I don't get colours. But when it rains, the garbled colourless chaos starts to take shape."  
I try to explain. She'll never understand the ways I see her, the ways I know her, she will never understand the intimate way I know I make her heart beat faster just by standing near her.  
"You're…beautiful." I manage. I'm star struck by the flickers of colours and sensory overload I'm experiencing. Who am I kidding, I'm star struck by her. By Karen.  
My fingertips slide from her cheek so my thumb hovers over her full lips, they're parted slightly. And I remember she's still holding her breath. I wonder if she realises she'd not breathing. As my fingers graze over her supple skin, I feel her take in a quivering breath.  
In the lukewarm rain, I take a step closer to her closing the small distance between us. She's on fire, and as I step into her warmth, I'm enveloped by the scent of her shampoo mingling with her rose-scented perfume, and her cherry lip balm.  
"I shouldn't…" I manage, that's when I feel her take a step closer to me too. Maybe we're both seeking comfort in this heartless city, and maybe that's not such a bad thing.  
I lean my forehead against hers, and she sighs. As if a wall inside her finally gave way, and I feel it too. The relief of intimacy, the relief of just letting go of holding it together and suppressing my desire for so long. Our noses brush gently, and as if we've always been in sync, she leans closer as I press my lips against hers. We're two halves finally put together to make something whole. Her hands slide around my neck as she cups my face and kisses me back tentatively at first then with more intensity.  
All this time, she felt it too. My heart swells but doesn't feel heavier, instead it feels lighter than it has in months, years even. Kissing Karen is where I wanna stay. Maybe that's I deflate a little as she pulls away after a moment. She places a warm hand on my chest pushing me away just enough for her to catch her breath. I wish she'd kiss me again. But I wait.  
I won't rush her.  
"We shouldn't."  
"But we did." I answer, my hand finds her cheek again and I feel her smile.  
"Yeah… we did." She says with a nod.  
"C'mon, let's get out of here." I advise. She slips her hand into mine and we walk together, only now she leans into me a little as we go and I savour every second of it.  
Sure, this is exactly what I need, but I'm wondering if this is what she needs.  
"What do you wanna do?" She asks, her voice still hides something, and it's starting to trouble me.  
"Whatever you want." I reply with a supportive tone. As she squeezes my hand gently, I notice how well my hand fits hers. "I'm sorry I've been so… absent."  
"It's okay. We all have things to deal with." She says with that sincerity I love so much.  
"I'm glad you reached out."  
"I'm glad it rained." She says, her voice barely above a whisper.


End file.
